


Call of the Sea

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Poetry, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.The voice of the Sea Legolas have seen is so irresistible, but the parting with his beloved home is too bitter. How could one heart to bear such a contradiction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Oh, lands far away, oh, smell of the Sea,  
Of salt and fish, of a fresh breezy wind!..  
There over the marshes is an isle of green,  
Beyond fiery Darkness, beyond Anduin!  
  
Oh, beautiful Sea, so clear and wide,  
A hypnotic voice of the billowing tide,  
Both in rabid storms and in warmth of the light  
The cry of your gulls is worrying my mind!  
  
Oh, clean lucid waters of your distant coast,  
Where waves are playing with a frolicsome breeze!..  
Beyond Misty Mountains are old spacious crowns  
Of high ancient trees in the garment of leaves.  
  
The air is muggy of breathing of plants,  
There grass is stirring beside creeping roots,  
The shadows are roaming between the trunks,  
In darkness of those impassable woods.  
  
There wild merry twigs interweave in embrace,  
And under their cover in thicket of trees  
The Green Leaves are dancing, the people of Elves,  
A tribe called Sindar from times of dreams.  
  
There nights are like centuries, days - like minutes,  
And years are streaming like doping mist…  
Oh, Shadows of Time, my wonderful Mirkwood,  
The song of the charms, the drowsy drink!  
  
It's my only love, the core of my soul,  
And sap of the birches is the blood of my own!...  
Too late. My heart was hurt by the foam,  
And never on earth it will come back to home.


End file.
